


Domino Effects

by syredronning



Series: Draws [5]
Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Kinky, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/syredronning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The relationship develops, bringing new insights and challenges on the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domino Effects

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to "Square One". I ignore ENT canon in this story.  
> Thanks for the wonderful beta goes to madelf. All remaining flaws are solely mine.

_"It's almost too boring lately. Though now that I've said that, no doubt Murphy's going to bite our ass. Bones has been complaining about the kitchen all day after a completely inedible breakfast came out of the slots but I know from trusted sources that they're going to make pecan pie for him tonight. God knows from what material. For all I know, there's an extra storage somewhere because they keep coming up with things that were never on the order list to begin with. But I'm only the captain, and obviously this is a conspiracy between Spock, Scotty and Chef Orlando who joined forces to improve our collective mood."_

Three months into their routine, the recordings have long moved from simple cheer-me-up voice porn to intense connections between their worlds. After getting to know them as cadets, then as officers and lovers, Pike is now getting to know who Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are as people.

They share almost everything with each other. There are the normal day recordings (which range from happy to moody), the bad day recordings, and the "we had such a fucked-up week we won't even talk about it" recordings, which are mostly taped to lift the recording party's mood. The current recording is of the normal day variety, and these rarely fail to bring a smile to Pike's face.

_"I had the pleasure of marrying another lesbian couple two days ago, Mary Holmes from engineering and Shalal from security. Which brings our local queer quota to a whopping twenty-three per cent. The wedding caused some trouble because Shalal refused the traditional Andorian four-way-marriage, and I had various Andorian officials yelling in my line over the last week. I married her off anyway, because this is my ship and my decision. I guess the admiralty will receive an official complaint about me soon. The party was well worth the trouble, though, great buffet with fresh food from the last planetary stop and a bar so well-stocked that med bay was almost running out of hangover pills the morning after. And now I'll go and force Bones to have dinner with me. Pecan pie is waiting. I hope you enjoyed listening. All our love, and we're looking forward to your next message. Jim."_

Pike loves listening to stories of their life onboard the Enterprise and especially Kirk speaking about captain's business, stories that mostly ease the pain of not being the one up there, instead of making him think of the loss. There are other unhappier recordings too, and it's an unspoken rule between them that there's no need to hide the darker moments, the sadness that comes over losses or ruined dreams. Often, the Enterprise men make the recordings together or at least know what is sent, but sometimes, he receives a recording that is for his ears only: McCoy's thoughts while Kirk is in an artificial coma for two days, or Kirk's opinion about McCoy's ex-wife and the way she treats the doc - things they need to share with someone but preferably not with each other.

Pike is the perfect confidant, and they are his. Aside from the latest HQ rumors and some more-or-less confidential Starfleet news he'd also share with them if they were on Earth, he doesn't have many interesting things to report. Therefore he tells them some stories about his life, like how he got the first shares of his club. It's a story he records in his club's office late one night, the lights low, the second glass of bourbon in his hand, leaning back in his chair with his feet on the desk and his eyes on the ceiling as his thoughts wander back to the past.

_"Barely anyone knows this story, and nobody but me knows his name, but I inherited the club shares from a friend. Actually, he was less of a friend and more of a lover, and it's the best-hidden secret in my life. He was commander and instructor at the academy, and I was cadet in my second year. He was an impressive man, self-assured and with a body that would put Hercules to shame, and I had admired him from afar for a while. When he came onto me, I knew it was illicit but I wasn't averse to the idea at all. We had it all: hurried sex in stalls, stolen nights during a training course, weekends at hotels far away checking in with fake IDs. He literally showed me the ropes and got me into the many varieties of sexual practices people could participate in. It went on until I was posted, then we drifted apart. He took up the next young cadet, which was when I noticed a pattern, but he always remained a good memory. I've learned so much from him… I happen to think I've become a better man and better commanding officer due to him. But I admit that this relationship tinted my own view about instructor-student interaction, making me think that what was good for me might work as well for other cadets, with me on the instructor side. Which can be a dangerous assumption…"_

_"He died on a mission five years later. I wasn't heart-broken, just rather sad because the world had lost a great man. A month after his death I was contacted and told that he'd passed me his shares of a club he co-owned with a friend. I hadn't known about the club, didn't really care for it either as I was solely focused on my career, trying to meet the high expectations of the admiralty in their young captain. But once again I felt singled-out – of course I wanted to be someone special in the row of cadets he obviously indulged in, and it seemed I was the only candidate he thought was worth his shares. Or maybe he just wanted to press his eternal point that I should loosen up a little. Anyway, I accepted the inheritance. His trails were covered well, his name never showed up in the proceedings. I didn't have as much patience, which brought some problems over the decades and not just from Starfleet, but I kept the shares. A few years ago his old friend died and the heir happily sold me the other half of the club. So now it's completely mine._

_"I'm often concerned that I don't spend as much time with running the club as I should, but it's more of a chore than a large personal interest. On the other hand, it's never chore enough to sell it, and it has fostered some interesting connections over the years, to say the least. I also love to think back to that first scene there with you, though always with a bit of a bad conscience now, thanks to the doc. And of course he's been right –it was an abuse of power. Still – if I could turn back time, especially with knowing that that scene would start developments that would get you together and then in bed with me, I wouldn't change a thing. Which possibly makes me a moral failure when it comes to my sex life."_

Pike listens to the recording four times; it's a story he's never expected to tell, and he fights with himself before he sends it off, unsure how it will be received.

_"Explains a lot about you,"_ is McCoy's only comment in the next recording, while Jim is a bit more explicit in a recording to Pike's ears only.

_"Of course Bones feels weird about that sort of story, but what the hell – I've had sex with two of the instructors, and no, Bones doesn't need to know that. Things like that happen, and we all know that the rules are for cases where things go wrong, not for the many hidden relationships that are going on in places like the academy or on a ship. Some people are holier than holy, and while I'm against abuse of rank, many people don't have a problem with being in relationship with someone farther up or down the chain of command – which includes Spock and Uhura, and me and Bones, even though he's prone to forget I'm his captain. It's annoying that once you get married, it's suddenly not a source of concern anymore, as if you started dating on your wedding day. It's a dishonest attitude. _

_"The memory of that first scene with you is hot, and you actually kept a rather large distance from us in it, so I didn't feel molested by you. If anything, I was jumping Bones. And damn -_" Jim's laughter chimes in - _"didn't we earn that punishment that night. Everyone else would just have gotten us thrown out – we were mentally blacklisted by so many people, nobody would've stood up for us. You gave us a chance to become officers at all, something Bones likes to forget too. So thanks a lot for sharing your story, Chris. It can't have been easy on you - and thanks for being there for us."_

The message leaves Pike feeling strangely absolved, which is, all things considered, neither surprising nor unwelcome.

*

There is also another special kind of recordings – those in which the Enterprise officers talk about other people they're seeing. As Kirk once puts it, _"We're living so closely together, sometimes we just need to get away for a moment, be all by ourselves instead of one half a couple."_

At first, Pike hadn't been sure if he wanted to hear about those, considering that these people have the chance to be with the men while he's far away. Then he realized that the time those people spend with Kirk and McCoy is limited, while what the three of them have between them is the thing that lasts. At the end of the day, he's the one receiving their recordings with their private thoughts that no one else will ever hear. Still, they tend to be a bit of a challenge, like the one that arrived a few days ago.

_"Hey Chris,"_ McCoy's voice starts, amused and just a touch slurred. _"It's a nice evening and I'm sitting here, having a glass or two of Scotty's moonshine – getting better all the time. Jim's on tour. Remember that young lieutenant we joked about a while ago, with the sexy ass? Jim didn't want to do anything about it while the guy served here, of course. But guess what, he'll transfer tomorrow so I suggested this would be the perfect moment to get the guy laid. So Jim's off now, dating him. You probably think I should've gone with him but you know me. I'm possibly the only straight guy in this galaxy married to a man. You two are the exception to my rule, not the other way round._

"And before you think I'm all mourning let me tell you about Dr. Ochi. She's one fine lady, yes she is, and a great doctor too. She's been temporarily assigned to the Enterprise for a month; we worked on that virus epidemic together. It's been one of the best working relationships I've ever had."

If Pike had been in a normal relationship with McCoy, a story like this might have been a deal-breaker. Between the three of them, however, where Pike has no official claims on McCoy anyway, the thought of McCoy being with a woman doesn't evoke the same nausea as it evoked with Alain, because it doesn't change anything between them.

The heart is a strange, unpredictable thing.

_"Jim was the first to notice, of course, quicker than me, and shoved me a little to take up her unspoken offer. It's always the hardest thing for me to explain right in the beginning how it works between Jim and me, and I've never found a good way of saying it. Just have dinner together and then start, 'Oh, by the way, I'm married to Jim Kirk and we've got this open relationship thing going on and he's okay with me wanting to have sex with you tonight'? I could really use some tips because Jim's suggestions have never been helpful. God knows how he got laid, considering his horrible pickup lines."_

Pike can't help but grinning. He's heard some of those lines by now and he agrees with the doc. Maybe some subconscious part of Kirk also doesn't want McCoy to get laid, though Kirk would never admit that.

For all his reputation, Kirk currently sticks to men for the most part after two problematic encounters with women – _"I love women but they obviously want something from me that I can't deliver right now, and I'd rather just have good sex for a night than a complicated aftermath in the morning."_

McCoy, on the other hand, is really rather straight, something Kirk would mock him for in random moments, sometimes not for his best – _"I teased Bones about his crush on the Betazoid ambassador and her terrible hairdo, and he fucked me missionary all week. Missionary, my ass! I'm not that pervy."_

The insights these recordings give are more than Pike has ever gotten from any other couple, including those he's been a part of. There's something exhilarating about listening to honest, open stories that show the inner ticking of their marriage, and that he's the one they want to share it with. They're the largest physical distance apart he could imagine but he's got a more intense relationship with them that he's ever had in his life.

Miracles never cease.

McCoy's voice carries on. _"So I had dinner with her and I decided to skip the relationship explanation this time and move forward to some romantic moment in the Star Lounge and then she's suddenly the one explaining to me that she's in a relationship and wants to emphasize that she doesn't want more than a few nights with me and asks if that's okay, etc. etc. Imagine my jaw hitting the floor. That's what I get for listening to Jim's opinion on women too much. They're not half as predictable as he thinks they are."_

There's the clear sound of glass on glass, the dampened sound of someone drinking.

_"In any case, it made everything really easy and funny and we had a great time together. I think Jim was a bit jealous, but hell, she whispered virus replication statistics in my ear during sex and that's just unbeatable."_ McCoy laughs, making Pike grin in return.

_"She's left by now, and it's okay, because she's taken, I'm taken, and I'm not good at compartmentalizing. Got my hands full with the two of you already. Heard we're possibly scheduled to be on Earth in two months, so I hope you clear your schedule because we're going to occupy you as much as we can. No flimsy excuses, Admiral. Good night, Chris, and we'll keep in touch. Touch as in my hands on your dick. Yeah. Hear you soon." _

Definitely a little drunk, the good doctor, but Pike can relate. He pours himself a drink and takes it to the balcony. Two months, if he can help it – he's talked to Barnett, trying to get them to Earth a little sooner than originally planned, and he hopes he'll succeed because if anyone needs to get laid right now, it's definitely him. What good is being an admiral if it doesn't help to fulfill personal wishes once in a while?

*

The two months pass in a blink, and suddenly, the Enterprise is docked on Luna space station for minor repairs. He knows that they're already on Earth and likely in the HQ for some debriefing, and he's actually waiting for a message from them when he unexpectedly walks right into them on the main stairways of the academy. They're in uniform, with large travel bags strung over their shoulders, and when they turn in unison upon his call, his heart skips a beat. It's an unbelievable feeling to have them finally here, and he's proud of himself that he manages a friendly hand clasp and hug with each of them without being too obvious. Then he just stands there, out of voice, his eyes traveling between the two men.

"God, Chris..." McCoy says, staring at him as if he's a ghost.

"Admiral – I've got some business to attend to," Kirk breaks the tension of the moment, "but I thought the two of you could take my bag and go ahead to your apartment. I'll catch up with you later."

Pike turns his gaze at him. "Really? After all these months, I can wait a few more hours if need be."

"And I can too." Kirk grins and pushes his bag into Pike's arms. "But I think Bones is going to die if I force him to wait in front of closed office doors, so you've got to take pity on him."

"Pity, my ass," McCoy mutters.

"Acknowledged," Pike says. "I'll greenlight you with the security service so that you can enter the house. Just ring when you're in front of my door."

"Great. See you in a few hours." Kirk waves and jogs up the stairway towards the admiralty, taking always two stairs at once.

McCoy clears his throat. "You've got the car here?"

"No. Let's take a cab." Pike's already signaling one, knowing they wouldn't survive the longer trip with the monorail. It's here in no time, picking them up. They sit together on the back seat, stealing glances at each other without touching. They've said everything important in recordings already, so they've got nothing left to say right now that wouldn't sound like platitudes. The cab delivers them, not as quickly as Pike would've liked, and then they ride upstairs with the lift, walk down the corridor, Pike one step ahead to open the door for McCoy to pass.

As the door closes, they drop the bags on the spot and turn towards each other, eyes burning. They move forward, mouths meeting, lips parting, angling their heads to get as deep as possible with their tongues, their hands all over each other, half-ripping the uniforms away, and they're still kissing, needy and breathless and exhilarated beyond words. They tumble into the living room, hands lacing into collars and under shirts. Finally they break the kissing to divest the shirts, only to return to it while they open the flies with shaking fingers. Somehow they get rid of the rest of their clothes, then McCoy pulls them together in an embrace, pushing their hard erections together.

"Missed you so much," McCoy mutters, his lips right beneath Pike's ear as he starts kissing down his throat. "There were times when I thought I'd never see you again."

"Don't say that," Pike says, lacing his hands into the dark hair. "I always knew you'd make it."

He arches back against the wall, his knees going weak over the way McCoy touches him, fingers and lips everywhere, caressing his skin, stroking his chest, kissing down his hairline to his navel. He inhales sharply as McCoy's taking his hard-on into his mouth, his eyes closing involuntarily. Strong hands grip his ass, controlling his movements as McCoy deep-throats him. He's instantly shaking, so close to orgasm it's not even funny. "Not yet. Please, doc..." he hears himself whimper. McCoy pulls back, placing his hands on Pike's pelvis, caressing the hip bones with his thumbs.

"What do you want, Chris?" McCoy whispers. "Tell me."

"Let me ride you," Pike manages to say, pulling himself to a full stand with trembling legs. "I've had that image in my mind for a while, can't help it, got that new couch because it's the right height and width for it..." He rambles, but McCoy understands as he pulls him along and makes him sit down. The couch is rather deep, very comfortable and supportive for anyone who'd sit on another person. He does just that, putting his hands on McCoy's shoulders and kneeling over the doc's slight spread legs, rubbing their bulges together.

"Get what you mean," McCoy says, eyes dilated. He puts one hand on Pike's erection, squeezing it.

"Careful," Pike mutters but starts stroking McCoy's erection likewise. They start kissing again, lips and tongues battling as they tease each other, always stopping before the point of no return.

"Let me sit down on you," Pike says at last, rising on his knees to crouch higher.

"That's slick enough for you?" McCoy asks, teasing some more precum out of his dick.

"Just fine. What do you think I've done all those months, alone in bed?"

"No clue. You never said a word about it."

"There got to be things you only learn about here," Pike says. "Like about my increasing collection of dildos." Then he adds a frustrated "Come on, help me," as he can't find the right angle. McCoy's hand sneaks down, finding his entry and teasing it with his fingertips before positioning his glans. Pike slowly lowers himself, _god, yes, finally_. His eyes close as he curls forward with a low moan.

McCoy is kissing his forehead, muttering, "damn, Chris, you're going to kill me if you don't move now". Pike starts moving a little, just a little, doesn't want to go too fast, wants it to last for a while. Really, he can control this - but McCoy is not having any of that and grabs his hips again, shoving into him with hard, short thrusts, and it's only a few minutes before Pike can feel the eruption. McCoy is tightly holding him down while riding out his orgasm through the ebbing movements, pumping the last drops into him. Then McCoy tilts him back a little and grabs his erection that's nudged against McCoy's lower body, stroking the precum all over the head, jerking him off with gifted fingers. Pike's head falls back as he comes with a low cry, feeling his sperm propelled out of his body as if all of him is exploding, head to toe in one orgasmic wave. He's seeing stars and black and needs a moment to regain awareness of McCoy's arms holding him, pulling him into an embrace.

"Chris, Chris, Chris…" the doc murmurs, a sweet litany, and Pike closes his eyes, caressing the body underneath him, placing kisses on the now sweaty skin.

"Love you, doc," slips out of Pike's mouth, and he probably should regret it, but it's true.

"Love you too," McCoy replies without hesitation, stroking his neck. "Didn't think I'd ever say that to anyone but Jim, but it's true, and he knows."

"He's something special too," Pike murmurs. "But it's different."

"Yeah. No problem. It's okay."

They stay in the beautiful haze for a while, until Pike sits up in McCoy's lap, looking him squarely into the eyes. "Jim really got some meetings this afternoon?"

McCoy seems just as unable to keep his hands off Pike's body, caressing down his sides in tender strokes. "For all I know, yes. But I think he scheduled them there deliberately, to give us some time."

"He's unbelievable."

"He's Jim Kirk." They share a knowing grin when, as if on cue, the door bell rings.

"Speak of the devil," Pike says, ignoring his aching knees as he gets off from the couch. The door bell rings again, and he calls out to it, "There in a second." Naked as he is, he trudges to the entry and opens the door. It slides aside.

"Jim, you're –" he says, then stops. "Excuse me – who the hell are you?" he asks, staring at the man in a hooded robe. "You must have gotten the wrong door," he adds without waiting for an answer, but the man puts a foot into the apartment, stopping Pike from closing the door.

"I've come to speak to Jim Kirk," the man says. "I was told I might find him here."

"You were told?" Pike repeats sharply. The address is protected, almost nobody knows where he lives; it should keep students, club rivals and reporters from his door. Not to speak about the security service he paid a fortune for. "I'll ask you again – who are you?"

The man pulls away the hood. It's an old face – it's an old Vulcan. And on second sight, it's an old Vulcan Pike has only seen from afar or on pictures in reports and memos.

"Spock," McCoy says who's appeared behind him, at least wearing pants – Pike's pants, from the color.

"Wait outside for a second," Pike says determined. "Please." The Vulcan nods, retracting his foot. Pike closes the door, turning to McCoy. "Who told him this address?" he snaps. "And what the hell does he want from Jim?"

"Well, I didn't, and I don't know," McCoy retorts, eyebrows drawn together in a deep frown. "And he can only answer your questions when you let him in."

"You let him in. I'm taking a shower and get dressed," Pike replies coolly. "You know where to find everything in the kitchen." He stomps away, annoyed about this surprising visitor and how he's disrupting a reunion that Pike's been looking forward to for months. Behind him, he hears the door opening and closing, dampened voices as McCoy starts talking with the man that's generally called Ambassador Selek, but that Pike knows is a future version of Spock from an alternate timeline.

*

Over the time in the shower, annoyance is partly dispelled by curiosity. Pike has read enough material about this Spock to know some back history, but he has never met the Vulcan in person before. The simple fact that the man is here means that Spock either knows more about him than he should, or that someone else who knows him has talked. Pike has his suspicions, but he doubts Spock would confirm them, one way or the other.

Once he's dressed to his satisfaction in black jeans and a buttoned, long-sleeved blue shirt, slippers on his feet, he walks out and straight into the kitchen, in need of a coffee before any conversation with this Spock.

"I messaged Jim," McCoy says quietly as he joins him a minute later. "Told him to hurry up because we've got an unexpected guest." McCoy is still wearing Pike's pants, but at least his own black shirt.

"Very unexpected," Pike agrees, pushing the buttons of his expensive coffee machine with a little too much force.

"I didn't invite him," McCoy grumbles. "I could well live without him."

Pike rubs his chin, noticing the strain in McCoy's voice. "You got a problem with him?"

"Besides the non-negotiated mindmeld he performed on Jim, and the continuing subliminal suggestion that for him, a _Spock_ is the only acceptable match for Jim, no matter which universe, I don't have a problem at all," McCoy growls into his ear. A damn sexy sound, Pike thinks, even though the words are not. He files away the word _non-negotiated_ for further questions because he hadn't known about that aspect, but is glad to be spared an answer as the door bell rings. He goes to open the door to Kirk.

"Old Spock's here?" Kirk whispers as he's inside. "I wonder what he wants." There's a light frown and something else, intangible, in Kirk's features. He straightens and walks with Pike into the living room.

Spock sits on the couch – approximately at the same spot they just had sex before, and Pike is amused by the thought – and gets up when Kirk enters. They share a Vulcan greeting, before Spock steps forward and places a hand on Kirk's shoulder for a moment, a rather intimate gesture that makes Pike surprisingly uncomfortable.

In the door frame, McCoy nurses a forced façade of calm, while Pike takes a seat on the far-away arm chair. He eyes Spock – rather old and weathered face, white hair, calm but the features not quite as unemotional as the ones of his younger counterpart. The Vulcan wears a traditional robe with a just as traditional large gem hanging around his neck, possibly a statement of sorts like _the House of Sarek survived for two thousand years and will proudly withstand even disaster of planetary size_.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the wood?" Kirk asks and sits down next to Spock on the couch.

"There is no wood," Spock replies predictably. "I came here to speak with you –" his eyes roam through the room, edging along McCoy, settling on Pike for a long moment before focusing on Kirk again – "about the Borg."

"The species with the cube-shaped starships?" Kirk asks. Pike inwardly nods; this has been the Starfleet's only unsolved encounter within the last few months. One that had endangered the Enterprise.

"Indeed." Spock settles back on the couch, folding his hands. McCoy gives in and walks into the room to sit down on the armrest next to Pike. It makes for a strange double-couple arrangement, but Pike's thought is dispelled by a signal that suddenly resounds in the room, first low, then increasing in noise.

"Oh shit," McCoy growls and gets up again. The other three men watch as McCoy retrieves a small communicator from his discarded pants and starts talking, walking to the other end of the room in the process. His body language tells the story as clearly as the words that reach them, _emergency? I'm off-duty_ and _it's only been an experimental procedure, for god sake_ and at last the words Pike doesn't like to hear at all, _alright, beam me over in ten minutes_.

"I'm needed in SFM," McCoy says to them as he turns off the communicator.

"Can't they live without you for even one day?" Kirk says, in a palpable a mix of resignation and frustration.

McCoy straightens his back but doesn't retort to the statement, only says, "They'll beam me up from the street. I've got to go." He's not apologetic at all when he leaves to change into uniform.

When he returns, Pike gets up to walk him to the door. "Here," he says and picks a keycard from a drawer. "That will get you into the house and this apartment. Don't lose it – it's the only one I've left. When you're back, we can deal with the voice lock programming."

"Thanks, Chris," McCoy says quietly as he takes it. His eyes flicker back to the living room. "It's a shit moment, but this is priority one. I wouldn't be able to sit around here knowing that a life is at stake."

"I know. Doesn't make it more convenient, though."

"No. Take care of Jim. And beware of this Spock. We don't know what games he plays." And how he might try and lure Jim into them, Pike hears through the words.

"I'll see to it. Go and concentrate on the task ahead," Pike says firmly. "Looking forward to your return." He nudges McCoy's shoulder, then shows him off.

When he returns to the living room, the men on the couch sit in silence, Spock patiently, Kirk slightly edgy. Pike sits down in the arm chair again, waving his hand in a _go on_ signal.

"The Borg," Spock resumes his narration, "are a cybernetic race originating in the Delta Quadrant. In my timeline, the Federation first learns of their existence in 2293, and gets into conflicts with them after 2364."

"Conflicts as in…?" Pike asks, but Spock ignores him.

"2364 – that makes them a hundred years too early," Kirk says. "What changed?"

"That is unclear to me. Much is unknown about the history of the Borg, even at our time. The Borg share a collective hive mind, which is why their members are called drones. The Borg assimilate other worlds to incorporate their technologies and their populations. Captives are surgically altered. Implants are attached to the body, creating a cybernetic being that is under the control of the collective."

Kirk frowns deeply. "What happens if people don't want to be assimilated?"

Spock tilts his head. "They often have little choice in the matter. The Borg like to state that resistance is futile, and many worlds had been assimilated in my time."

Kirk shakes his head. "They didn't send us any statement like that – they simply attacked without warning."

"Maybe their strength is not yet as developed to render the statement valid. As your escape seems to prove."

"Though it was a close call," Kirk states, lost in thoughts for a second before he focuses back on Spock. "Why do you think they wanted us?"

"It may have been pure chance. The current Borg strategy seems different to their future selves. Maybe they currently assimilate technology at random and you were simply an unknown ship with advanced technology close to them."

"But you don't think so."

"As the Borg have a strong interest in the Federation and particularly Earth in the future of my time, it is possible that you were actively selected as a target."

"You mean, they prefer ships named Enterprise?" Kirk jokes but turns serious when Spock's expression changes. Pike tenses, leaning forward in his armchair.

"In a way, they do," Spock says. "Though with the altered timeline, the future is… unclear."

"Anything happening to me?" Kirk asks straight ahead.

"Not in my time," Spock replies to Pike's relief. "Your ship is only the first in a series that carries that name."

"Good," Kirk says, rubbing his fingers. "Getting assimilated doesn't sound like a favorite pastime of mine." He looks at Spock. "So – what should we do now?"

Spock pulls a little disk out of his pocket, handing it to Kirk. "I have written down some background information on the Borg. Some of it from official files that I remember, some from the memories of an assimilated man that were once shared in a meld with me. As I said – the Borg of my timeline are more advanced, but as the influence of the Kelvin timeline on their development is unknown, it is important to retrieve more information on them."

"Why don't you go to the admiralty with your knowledge?" Pike can't help asking, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the way this Spock is playing his cards. A self-proclaimed deus ex machina, feeding them bits and pieces whenever he feels like.

Spock quirks his lips, granting him a short glance. "It is Jim's choice how to proceed with the information. However, it seems I already informed the admiralty by being here."

"Unintentionally, of course," Pike states ironically.

Kirk frowns at Pike, then looks back at Spock. "It's been five months since the attack. Why didn't you give us the information earlier?"

"I have been occupied," Spock replies smoothly – too smoothly, in Pike's opinion.

"Occupied." Kirk plays with the disk in his hand. "I see." He gets up. "I'll be right back," he says with a warning glance at Pike, conveying _don't kill each other_, then vanishes towards the bathroom

When Kirk's gone, Pike leans further forward, his laced hands pointing towards the Vulcan. "What kind of game are you playing?"

The unreadable gaze fully shifts towards him, and Pike feels strangely exposed. "There is no need to play games, Admiral. Rest assured that I only have Jim's best interest in mind."

"Only his? What about the Federation? The 'fleet? You're got the knowledge to change things – to prevent disasters, but you're holding it back for whenever you feel like sharing."

"Rest assured that the fate of the Federation is also important to me, as is that of friends and colleagues," Spock says calmly and slightly lecturing, lacing his hands. "However, my latest attempt at changing the fate of one planet has resulted in the loss of two. Therefore I am hesitant to share my knowledge – which is only valid in my own time – with other parties as long as there is no imminent need for it."

"What about other enemies you encountered? Unknown planets and their dangers? Will you always show up _afterwards_? What if one time, that's too late to be any help for Jim?"

"I attempt to take precautions, but there is a high risk either way. While some events are similar in the two timelines, others are very different." There's a volume of unspoken things behind Spock words, and they seem to have to do with Pike.

"Did we know each other?" Pike asks with a frown.

"Yes."

There's silence for a moment, in which Pike wonders how Spock could distract him from his annoyance and turn his mind to questions he's never pondered before.

"You are curious about our relationship in the other timeline," Spock says.

"Maybe," Pike relents.

Spock looks at him with those very dark eyes. "I served under you as science officer on the Enterprise for eleven years, four months and five days, until you relieved command to James T. Kirk."

"Eleven years!" Pike is surprised, and he doesn't hide it. "In this universe, I've got her more like eleven minutes."

"Eleven years," Spock repeats, "and I've found you to be a formidable commanding officer. You were close friends with the ship's doctor Boyce and your first officer, which you only called Number One. However, there was a certain sadness in you, and I sometimes wondered if the length of time commanding the vessel without having any close relationship to turn to has caused what humans call a burn-out effect. You sometimes considered career alternatives but never took them."

"What happened after the Enterprise?"

"You were instructor at the academy, organizing cadet trainings," Spock says, but it's vague enough to make Pike's neck hair stand up a little.

"Did I live - long and prosper?" he asks, although he knows no man should cross that particular line.

Spock's lips quirk a little, but it looks more like sadness than amusement, in Pike's opinion. "Yes, you did."

"Well, that's all a man needs to know, right?" Pike says stately.

There's suddenly a sound in the apartment, and Pike groans as he realizes it's his console signaling a message from the HQ. He feels with McCoy as he gets up. "I need to answer – I'll be back in a minute," he mutters and leaves the living room for his small office. It's Barnett, and because Pike is on leave, he lets it be answered by the console, impatiently listening to some rambles and two non-urgent requests with his eyes on the teddy bear until Barnett seems to come to his point by saying, _"Had a debriefing with Kirk this morning, and it seems you're spending your shore leave together. Took me really by surprise – didn't know you were so close. Now I'm no longer wondering why you wanted to have the Enterprise here a little earlier than originally scheduled. You could've told me, Chris."_ He sounds a little wounded.

_Yeah, I could've told you, but I didn't want to,_ Pike thinks. Barnett is a good friend for a colleague, but he isn't the kind of friend Pike wants to share details of his private life with. Although Barnett obviously sees that a little differently.

There's another message from Natasha that had come in while he'd been busy with McCoy on the couch, but he decides to keep it for later. He goes back to the living room but only finds Jim Kirk in it, staring out of the window.

"He's gone?" Pike asks.

Kirk turns to him "Yes."

Pike draws closer, taking a place next to Kirk at the window without touching him. "Why -?"

"Why do I play his game?" Kirk asks, gaze shifting back to the window.

"Yes."

Kirk remains silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "When I met him on Delta Vega, there was nothing but happiness in him on seeing me. No doubt, no criticism, no annoyance, no accusations – only happiness and total acceptance. For him, I didn't need to prove anything – I already had proven myself over and over in his life. For him, I was the captain, the hero, the best friend a man could ask for... "

"And the best lover?"

Kirk shrugs. "I'm not sure about the physical side of things but in his mind, yes, he and my other self were as connected as two people could be. The level of wordless understanding, knowing each other's innermost thoughts. It didn't keep them from making assumptions or mistakes or just wrong decisions at times, but that never destroyed the friendship."

"Did he tell you that, or did you experience all of it in the mindmeld?"

Kirk shakes his head and doesn't answer that question; instead he goes on, "I know his pain from the loss of Romulus and Vulcan, the pain of this extreme failure that added to the large amount of things and people he had already lost before – like my other self and his McCoy, who'd been a close friend to him too. So there's this man with all this knowledge and with the experience of a Vulcan lifetime, and he's stranded, all of his past gone, the future partly in his hands, and he can't help thinking that he can make a difference. But he's tired and weary of the fallout if he makes yet another mistake. He infiltrates databanks with his additional knowledge, placing hints for events that need to be dealt with when the time arrives. He tries to help without making it obvious where the information comes from. He doesn't necessarily deliver solutions because with the changed future, they might no longer be valid, but once in a while he feels he needs to share information with someone, and then he turns to me – only to me."

Kirk takes a deep breath.

"This is only the fourth time that he has, and believe me, the responsibility of what to do with the knowledge always rests heavily on my shoulders. I don't really have a choice – I need to listen to him because this information might mean the difference between life and death one day, but even if I could choose, I would listen to him because he wants me to. I am his special someone in this timeline – in all timelines, possibly."

He looks at Pike. "When I listened to your recording, about that commander that was your lover and singled you out in his will, I knew what you meant. To know that in the life of another person, you're someone special, someone a little more important than the others – that's both an honor and an obligation. It's not something I can cast aside lightly."

Pike understands, but can't help asking, "Even though Leonard has a hard time dealing with it."

"Yes – and I understand Bones, really I do. If the roles were inversed, I would not be pleased if anyone singled him out like this and then burdened him with knowledge that might mean survival or death in the wrong hands."

"And maybe he fears that this Spock wants you as more than just a confidant."

"Maybe Spock thought about it, yes," Kirk admits. "But that he showed up here today - I take that as a sign that he finally accepts that in this universe, things are a bit different. And I think he likes you."

"He does?" Pike raises a brow. "I didn't get that impression from him. I sure didn't give him any reason to like me."

"When he left, he expressed his contentment at seeing you in good health and remarked that in his life, Captain Pike has had his complete loyalty, and that you obviously command the same. And he wishes us luck. Strange wording for a Vulcan."

"He told me he served eleven years under my other self," Pike says.

"Whoa." Kirk's eyes widen. "That must be a hell of a lot loyalty then. I still feel lucky when my Spock doesn't kick my ass half the time."

"I would never allow any Spock to kick my ass," Pike states firmly, "in any timeframe or constellation."

Kirk laughs, at last leaning a little closer. Pike pulls him into an embrace.

"Damn, this day didn't go at all like I imagined it would," Kirk sighs against Pike's neck, hands lightly on his hips. "Spock showing up, Bones being called into surgery…"

"Everything's fine," Pike says. "We'll catch up with our plans as soon as the doc is back."

"Good," Kirk says muffled, then lifts his head and gently kisses Pike. "Hello, my favorite admiral. Nice being here with you today."

Pike kisses him back before he mutters, "Happy to have you here too."

Kirk leans his head against Pike's shoulder again. "Does it sound weird if I say that I'm tired and hungry?"

"Not at all. What about going out? There's a great new Italian restaurant around the corner. We can drop a note for the doc to join us if he makes it back early."

"He won't make it in time," Kirk says wistfully. "He never does."

"That won't keep us from having a good meal now," Pike states. "What about changing out of uniform? Otherwise you might need to sign autographs."

"Uh, no thanks." Kirk unlaces from the embrace and goes picking up his bag from the corridor floor where it lay all afternoon, then moves away into the bedroom to change.

When he returns in a black shirt and slacks, there's a bright smile on Kirk's face. "I've been in your office. You _really_ put up the teddy bear. Bones will die of glee."

"Don't think he hasn't seen it yet – maybe I should hide it," Pike says with a grin.

"Oh, no, please don't." Kirk's face turns more serious again. "I put the disk under it. It would probably be good if you take it to the HQ."

"Can't say no, can I?" Pike answers, capitulating to the reality that being with Kirk and McCoy also means dealing with the baggage they bring along – and not just bags in his corridor. He opens the door. "Come on, I'm starving."

*

They take their time eating, first sharing mixed appetizers, then a large salad and tuna pasta, topping it all with a bottle of red wine. They speak about Starfleet, the debriefings and the possible plans for the next Enterprise missions, which makes it almost feel like a business meal – not the worst thing after an afternoon of strong emotions, in Pike's opinion.

When they return to the apartment, it's already dark. With their stomachs full and the wine incapacitating their brains and dicks, they simply end up cuddling in bed, enjoying the feeling of being close to each other. There has been no message from McCoy yet, but Kirk doesn't expect one, only says that Bones will show up when he's done. With this off Pike's mind, he soon falls asleep, one arm curved around Kirk's hip.

It's much later when Pike suddenly wakes up, instantly noticing the small sounds outside of the room, the faint click of the door, the dampened steps. He turns his head to look at Kirk and finds the man with his eyes open, a bright grey in the dim light of what had to be early morning. Kirk meets his gaze but says nothing. Side by side, they lie there and wait. Pike remembers one of Kirk's recordings.

_"When a surgery goes well, he usually showers in sickbay and then comes to bed right away, still a little wound-up but overall pleased with a job well-done. But when it doesn't, he takes a second, longer shower in our quarters and then stays awake for a long time."_

They listen as the steps pass the door and move into the bathroom.

"Damn," Kirk murmurs softly.

They keep lying through the soft humming of the water and the sound of steps moving back to the living room, until the faint noise of the coffee maker can be heard.

_"I usually just let him sit for a while, give him time for a drink on his own before I join him. Sometimes, he doesn't want to have me there, wants to stay in the dark mood and ride it out until it starts feeling ridiculous even to himself, but that could take a week and I hate these phases." _

Pike isn't willing to let McCoy's mood descend into depression, not with the precious eight days they have. It's time for a distraction, he decides. "Let's go and look after him."

"You go. I'm not up to it right now."

"I never thought you were a coward," Pike retorts coolly.

"Just too damn exhausted to deal with his mood right now."

Pike feels there's a larger story behind Kirk's unsympathetic reaction which possibly has something to do with McCoy's inability to say 'no' whenever a doctor is needed, but he doesn't feel like digging deeper right now. Instead he gets up, pulling Kirk's blanket away in the process. "Get off your lazy ass and walk with me – _Captain_."

He more guesses than sees Kirk's flicker of annoyance but then the man gives in. They quietly follow the light into the kitchen, where McCoy sits wrapped in a towel on one barstool with his back to the wall, his naked feet propped up on another one. On the table, there's a cup of coffee but it looks untouched.

When they enter the room, McCoy's rather empty gaze shifts towards them. He blinks, shaking off his stupor. "Don't need a damn babysitter," he mutters, drawing his arms around his knees. "Go to bed."

"I'm not used to baby-sitting senior officers, and I won't start now," Pike states and picks up McCoy's cup, taking a sip. Kirk keeps lingering in the door, leaning against the frame with folded arms.

"I think we should get packed for the ride," Pike says without preamble, cracking a grin when he sees their surprised faces.

"Ride?" Kirk asks.

"As I told you before, I've made some arrangements. We've got a cabin in Yosemite National Park. And Jim's got an appointment with Yushi in a day."

"Yushi? As in Yushi Hirayama? That first-class climber?" Kirk's eyes gleam.

"Yes. He's a friend of a friend and agreed to climb with you, show you the ropes in Yosemite."

"Whoa. So that's why you wanted me to pack my climbing gear." Kirk is literally bouncing, which makes him look ten years younger on the spot. "I'll be ready in ten minutes – just taking a shower." He's out of the door in a wink.

"Don't give me that look," Pike says to McCoy, whose eyes positively throw daggers at him. "I've made the safest arrangement I could think of."

"How many favors did it cost you?"

"None – once Yushi learned that his student would be the famous James T. Kirk, he was all game." Pike walks right into McCoy's space. "Hey, you're both so damn ready for vacation and you won't get that in this city. So let's go and enjoy nature, have a campfire, watch Jim go climbing, go fishing…" He cradles McCoy's head against his chest, stroking through his hair, relieved when McCoy puts one arm around his waistline in an answering gesture. "I know the surgery didn't go well. I'm sorry for that, but you're running out of energy from only thinking of others. You need to recharge your batteries. That's what you're here for, doc."

McCoy heaves a deep breath. "Guess you're right." He raises his head, looking up at Pike. "Anything I should know about Spock's visit?"

"Nothing that's important right now. I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Okay." With visible effort and little enthusiasm, McCoy moves to stand.

"Hey man – you just pack and take the back seat, and I'll do the driving. You can sleep all you want in the car." Pike shoves him a little towards the door. "So hurry up, doctor."

"Hate it when you get all authoritative," McCoy grumbles, but picks up speed anyway.

"Liar," Pike mutters after him, then empties McCoy's cup of coffee. He's been packed since yesterday and the Enterprise officers never really unpacked, so half an hour later, they're on their way.

*

Pike drives, with Kirk on the passenger seat and McCoy dead asleep in the back seat behind Kirk, his head leaning against the window, jerking a little with every hole in the road.

They sit in comfortable silence, only speaking when necessary, both drifting a little in their thoughts. Pike focuses on the task at hand, which is finding the cabin, checking its state, then shopping for food. He finds the cabin, and they deliver a rather comatose McCoy right onto the next bed.

"That's always happening in the beginning of longer shore leaves," Kirk says as he takes off his husband's boots and covers him with a blanket. "Accumulated lack of sleep catching up with him."

"So this is good?" Pike asks doubtingly.

Kirk shrugs. "I think so. He should be fine when he wakes up tonight."

They take an inventory of everything they might miss, then leave a little note on the table and go shopping together for food and drinks to last them for the next few days.

"I booked the cabin for six days, but I don't mind if we leave earlier. It's not that expensive," Pike says as they carry two large boxes with supplies to the car. They stow them into the trunk and get ready for the trip back.

"We'll see how we like it." Kirk takes a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air, then smiles. "Being here is a wonderful contrast to our usual life on the Enterprise. Wouldn't want to exchange her for it, of course, but for a few days, this is the best thing on Earth. Literally. It's been a great idea, Chris."

_Let's hope the doc thinks the same,_ Pike thinks, not too sure about that aspect of his plans. Well, if not, he'd have to make him think so.

*

"Stop watching them, doc," Pike says, not for the first time. He's ignored, not for the first time either, by McCoy whose hands are tightly wrapped around the binoculars as he follows the ascent of Kirk and his instructor.

They had met with Yushi in the very early morning hours, then driven to the parking place closest to a smaller climbing area where Yushi lead some test climbs, to find Kirk's limits and have an eye on possible technical problems. Then the professional climber had offered to go one of the longer, popular routes with Jim and so they had moved to another dome. They'd carried mats and camping gear to the foot of the mountain, and then the two climbers had said their goodbyes and moved up into the wall.

"Yushi promised me that he'll take good care of him." Pike pokes the fire. It's less for the temperature and more for the atmosphere - camping without a good campfire just isn't camping for him.

He might also have a small pyromaniac streak but he wouldn't admit to that.

He moves to stand and walks to the doc, looking over his shoulder to see the tiny figures in the wall. "I booked Yushi to make sure that Jim will survive his first real wall – which he wouldn't if we were up there with him. So stop agonizing about the situation and give me that spyglass."

McCoy mutely shakes his head.

A second later, he lies on the ground, with Pike having one foot on the upper arm of the hand that still holds the binoculars. "Enough of this," Pike says firmly and takes them out of his fingers.

"You ass," McCoy snaps, pushing with his free hand against Pike's leg.

The ensuing wrestling match is amusingly brief, as McCoy is no match against someone who's been trained in various martial arts and the infamous hand-to-hand combat techniques. The doc ends on his stomach, his caught hands tightly pressed into the small of his back by Pike who sits on his hips. A minute later, the wrists are tied together with rope, leaving the man growling.

"How the hell do you live through all the ship's battles and hairy away missions, when you can't stand Jim being in danger?" Pike asks seriously because he knows the Enterprise logs and compared to the climbing trip, McCoy should die a thousand deaths during their missions.

"I'm busy, sir," McCoy snarls, "because I've got a goddamn sickbay to run."

"So that's the reason he takes you along on away missions instead of letting you stay behind – you'd agonize yourself into an early grave before he'd even beamed down."

"No. Comment." McCoy struggles against him, trying to throw him off, but it only makes Pike's erection nudge against his ass.

Pike chuckles, patting the cheeks in front of him. "Keep doing that and we are fine – ouch! No kicking!"

He quickly turns, grabbing McCoy's left leg and hooking another rope around the ankle of the walking boots, then tying it securely crossed against the other ankle. It leaves McCoy's legs bent and slightly spread.

Pike gets up and flips McCoy over and onto his back, smiling as he can see McCoy battling between frustration and arousal.

"You could've gotten it easier." He kneels down, palming McCoy's bulge that's prominently offered in this position. "Though I don't really mind having you at my mercy like this."

"You bas–"

"No more insults, doc," Pike orders and places one finger on McCoy's lips, "or I'll gag you. And I know you don't like that."

McCoy scowls but stops arguing, not the least because Pike's slipping two fingers into his mouth. After a moment of hesitation, he sucks them, relaxing slightly.

"Good," Pike says, his other hand still on McCoy's growing erection. He fingers it through the jeans, nudging against its outer lines. At last he pulls his fingers out of McCoy's mouth and uses both hands to open the belt and fly, pulling the jeans down over McCoy's hips. The hard-on juts out, and when he palms it, McCoy arches a little into his touch.

"Fuck, yes," McCoy murmurs, eyes half-closed.

"Not right now," Pike mutters. "We've got time." And that time needs to be filled with things that will keep McCoy distracted from Jim's fate. He stops fondling the inviting genitals in front of him and retrieves his bag, pulling out a little flask and some medical gloves. He puts on one glove and lubes it up, McCoy's gaze resting on him all the way, then gets down on his knees at McCoy's left side. With his other hand, he gets a hold on McCoy's leg and draws it up so that he can slip a first finger into the doc's ass.

"That's hot." McCoy's eyebrows engage in an endearing dance, undecided between a frown and curiosity. The doc gasps as Pike works another three fingers into him. "That's really warm. What is it?"

"This cream's the latest hype in the scene. Makes anal play twice the fun." Pike grins. "It works nicely – I test-ran it on myself."

"Assumed as much." McCoy gasps and presses back onto his hand. "It's as if all my nerves are on fire! Probably – not very healthy."

Pike stops moving. "You want to stop, doc?"

"Damn, no!"

"Good." Pike moves his hand, in and out, stretching his captive for the next step of his plan. Which means five anal beads on a string, and not the smallest ones on the market. McCoy's eyes widen as Pike pulls them out of the bag. "What are you up to?" the doc asks hoarsely. They would be his first - Pike has made sure with Jim that they'd never played with this particular type of toy, and he thoroughly enjoys McCoy's nerviness.

"I'm going to fill you up," Pike replies, taking the first one in hand. There's resistance at first as McCoy fights some inner battle with himself, to Pike's great entertainment. It doesn't stop Pike from pushing, though, and soon the ring of muscle yields to the first bead. Once it's half inside, it's naturally and smoothly sucked inside. McCoy draws in a sharp breath in surprise, and Pike gives him a moment to level his breathing.

"They're large," McCoy mutters.

"Yes," Pike agrees. "But not more than you can handle." He pushes in the second one, then the third, each going more smoothly. It's only after the fourth that McCoy shows some signs of distress, and Pike releases the doc's leg and sits back. He takes his time, fondling McCoy's groin, nurturing the faltered erection back to life. Once he can feel McCoy is more turned on and relaxed again, he bends him sideways once more.

"Please, Chris…" McCoy gasps. "No more."

"I'm sure you can take it," Pike states, unable to not challenge McCoy. The doc's standard setting is resistance against anything new and unknown, and he loves manipulating and pushing the man's buttons until these initial defenses are worn out and McCoy can't help giving in. It may be uncomfortable right now, but he's very sure that McCoy has enough experience with anal play to take the last bead.

Pike pulls a little at the end of the connecting string, the other hand on the proud erection. "I love having you all filled up and at my mercy, doc," he whispers roughly. "And I promise it will be worth it."

McCoy clenches his jaw, managing to mostly catch his rising whimper. That's another thing Pike loves, eliciting sounds from the man who's so direct and outspoken in everyday life but often so clammed up in bed, as if making noises during sex would be a hurtful admission.

"We'll try," Pike states. "If it doesn't work, it's okay. But you've got to try first."

"Fuck you," McCoy snarls, but rolls over some more anyway to allow for a better angle for inserting the last bead.

When Pike cautiously presses it in, there's surprisingly little resistance. The ball vanishes with a soft plop, followed by McCoy's deep groan. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," McCoy mutters, visibly fighting.

"You're doing great," Pike murmurs, stroking his erection with one hand, caressing the cheeks and hip with the other.

"Fuck you," McCoy says again between his harsh breathes. "Wait till I've got the upper hand again."

Pike laughs. "Well, I'd say if you've got enough reserves to plan your revenge already, you can't be doing too badly." He crouches forward and kisses McCoy, forcing his tongue in deep. McCoy yields to the oral intrusion like he's yielded to the beads, sighing as Pike pulls back.

"I can't believe I let you do this shit to me," McCoy grumbles.

"I can't believe I'm doing anything Jim wouldn't do."

"He's pushy but not _that_ pushy. And most of the time, I'm on top."

"Not with me here today," Pike says softly. He removes the glove and positions one of the mats on the ground, then pulls McCoy up to his knees on it.

McCoy sways a little before finding a stable, upright position, slightly resting on his tied ankles. "How about untying me?"

"Unless your hands or feet fall off, I won't untie you," Pike states. "Do they fall asleep?" He touches the hands, and they're still warm, despite the fact that McCoy has mostly been lying on them.

"It's just uncomfortable," McCoy murmurs.

"Guess I've got to do something to take your mind off your ailments, doctor." Pike opens his own fly and brings out his erection. He starts stroking it slowly right in front of McCoy's eyes, his fingertips fondling the head and shaft. He can feel more blood streaming into it, pulsing in the veins, and some of it is surely caused by the look on McCoy's face, the way the doc unconsciously licks his lips. After a few minutes, Pike curls his fingers around the base. "Open your mouth," he orders, voice more level and controlled than he actually feels.

McCoy opens his mouth without hesitation, and Pike closes his other hand around the back of the doc's head as he pushes into the warmth. The tongue cradles his glans, the lips tighten around his shaft, and he goes in until the head hits the back of McCoy's throat, then slightly pulls back out again. His breathing gets harsher as he starts mouth-fucking the doc, guiding McCoy's head to his liking. He's close to coming but he won't have that yet, so he pauses once in a while, his glans edging along McCoy's open lips, the spit cooling in the light wind of the forest. They're both turned on like hell, but when Pike squints at the climbing route of the mountain, he can see the tiny figures still on their way up, and so he decides they've got to last a little longer.

With a sigh and rather hurting balls he pulls out, giving his erection a few last strokes before stowing it away. "Let's take a break."

"Damn, you're killing me." McCoy sinks down on his cross-tied heels and bows his head with a sigh. "Not sure I can stand the beads for much longer."

"You'll make it," Pike says, combing through McCoy's hair, tousling it a little more. Then he caresses down the side of McCoy's face. The unshaven jaw has been a little rough on his groin during the blow job, but he likes the way the stubble makes McCoy look a little rogue, fitting to his personality. It's not really cooling him down when McCoy starts mouthing his erection through the fabric, and so he steps away. "Let me see after the fire for a moment," he says and goes to rekindle the dying flames.

When he looks back at McCoy, he finds the doc lying on the ground, staring at the mountain wall.

"Told you not to watch them," Pike says and walks into McCoy's line of sight.

"Just wanted to make sure everything is alright," McCoy mutters.

"If it wasn't, we couldn't help them anyway," Pike states. Clearly, more action is asked for, and so he pulls out a blindfold, tying it around McCoy's head.

"Damn, Chris – fuck, stop it."

"Not yet," Pike says, one hand back on McCoy's groin, fondling the bare package. McCoy knows his safeword, and unless Pike hears it, he won't stop. He unties the ankles and brings the doc up to his feet. "How's your ass?"

McCoy frowns, his eyebrows crinkling just above the blindfold. "Hot and full and damn near unbearable."

Pike pulls up the jeans that pool around McCoy's upper thighs, closing them. "Good. There's that little creek not far from our position, with a nice, big fallen tree next to it. Once we're there, you'll be relieved of the beads." Pike rolls a mat and puts it under his arms.

"Walking there blindfolded?" McCoy asks roughly.

"Why, yes, lieutenant commander." Pike smirks as McCoy scowls. "Take this as a little exercise in obedience and trust. So – walk on."

Pike's smirk deepens as McCoy remains frozen on the spot. "I said walk, doctor. You got a problem with your legs?"

McCoy shakes his head but makes a first tentative step forward. "Dammit, Chris -"

"Yes, I know my name. And you will keep on walking straight ahead, until I give you new orders. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." McCoy's jaw sets as he cautiously starts placing one foot in front of the other. When Pike orders a first sharp "left", the doc startles and promptly walks into a tree.

"Concentrate," Pike says without pity when he directs McCoy away from the wood. _Left, right, raise your feet, slowly, straight ahead, left, careful, lower your head_ – the walk takes as much concentration from Pike as it does from McCoy, and they're bathed in sweat when they finally reach the creek, a few bruises from minor collisions on them both.

"Chris, _please_," McCoy whimpers.

"What do you want?" Pike asks, one hand possessively splayed over one sexy cheek.

"Can you get these damn things out of my ass?"

"Ask again."

McCoy balls his fists but buckles under anyway, finally worn out. "Please, _sir_, you could please remove this extremely interesting toy - _sir_?"

"Sure." Pike throws the mat over the large fallen tree, its trunk the perfect height for a fuck. McCoy is on his knees seconds later, bending over with a sigh when his jeans are undone and stripped down. The anal beads come out nicely, each accompanied by the doc's groan. Pike throws them aside to the ground and cleans the doc a little before reaching around, rekindling the once again faltered erection. McCoy soon bucks back against him.

"Fuck me already, damn," McCoy mutters at last. "Or do you want to kill me with blue balls?"

"Being a studied man, I assume you know that no human has ever died of blue balls," Pike replies, thinking _though considering my own balls, today may be the exception_.

"But I'll do you the favor." Pike brings out his dick, nudging it against the stretched hole. "Say please."

"Please fuck me already, dammit!"

Pike laughs and pushes in. They last surprisingly long, both being overexerted from the ups and downs in arousal they've gone through today. Just when Pike decides to come, taking up speed, McCoy shudders with a deep, groaned sigh. Pike stops. "Everything alright?"

"Yes," McCoy answers breathlessly. "Yes, I think so." He laughs a little. "Guess now I know what an anal orgasm might feel like. Goddamn, that's hot!"

Pike's hand feels around the still stiff and rather dry erection.

"Yeah, no ejaculation. But it's been great, like a flash in my groin and brain. Guess that cream of yours is worth the credits."

"Good for you," Pike states. He pushes once more, experimentally, but isn't surprised when an oversensitive McCoy signals that he's really done for now. Pike pulls out, leaning over McCoy and stroking his sides. "Told you one day I'd fuck you until you come," he speaks under his breath. "Next time, maybe even with ejaculation." He removes the blindfold and unties the doc's arms, pulling him upright into an embrace.

"Damn, that was hot." McCoy leans back against him. They settle in the position for a moment, too exhausted to move.

"We should probably get back to the camp," Pike says at last.

"I don't think so." McCoy unlaces and turns around, touching Pike's face with one hand. "You're not done yet. Let me take care of it – please." He draws Pike into a kiss.

"No resistance." Pike smiles. "Give me a second." His and McCoy's levels when it came to playing dirty are rather different, so he pulls out a few disinfectant cloths but doesn't come far in the process.

"Lean back and let me do the work." McCoy takes the sealed packages out of his hand and rips a first one open. Pike sinks to the ground, only now noticing his aching knees and stiff legs. Though not as stiff as his dick which first gets professionally cleaned, then less professionally teased and stroked. His balls are really aching by now, the painful tension radiating up his groin.

"Come on," Pike says roughly as McCoy's tongue barely nudges along his sensitive head, but his dominance is clearly lacking now that he's the one lying on the ground and McCoy very much in control. Consequently, McCoy behaves like a damn cocktease.

"Just paying you back a little, Admiral." McCoy smirks before he takes Pike's erection into his mouth – _finally, dammit!_ – and starts a real workout. He's still teasing a lot more than Pike would prefer but at last gathers speed. Pike pushes his heels into the ground, searching for leverage as McCoy mercilessly sucks him towards orgasm. He comes in spurts, groaning and thrashing, riding it out in the welcoming mouth. He's still in the last throws, hazy and vulnerable, when there's suddenly a weight holding him down, flat on his back. One hand's lacing into his hair, tilting his head; another one's forcing his jaw open. He freezes in shock as something slick and lukewarm slips into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat.

_Tied and cold and lights blinding his eyes, clamps hitting his teeth, the slug slipping over his tongue, slick and salty, deep into his throat, eating through his flesh, agony ---_

He gasps for air, one gigantic large breath, and comes back to reality on all fours, couching and retching above the already spilled remains of his last meal. There's a hand on his back, warm and supportive.

"Here, take this." There's a handkerchief in front of his eyes, and Pike slightly rises, freeing one hand to catch it. He cleans his face, fighting the revolting taste and smell that fill his senses, vomit and the ghostly memory of the slug on his tongue.

"Don't have water right now, but here's some whisky," McCoy says and offers him a hip flask. Pike sinks back on his heels and takes it, having a mouthful of whisky and another one right after. It burns down his aching throat, hitting his stomach hard. He feels weak and disoriented, shocked about his own mind.

"I'm so sorry, Chris," McCoy mutters, placing his arm around Pike's shoulder. "Snowballed Jim a few times, and he loved it."

_Maybe you should have checked with me before trying to force it on me,_ flashes through Pike's mind, but it's an unjust accusation, considering that he's never talked to them in detail about anything that happened onboard Nero's ship before Kirk rescued him.

"Not your fault," Pike rasps. "Nobody's but his." He struggles to his feet, closes his jeans that are hanging ridiculously around his hips, and makes a few steps away from the mess before he heavily leans against the next tree, face forward on one bent elbow.

"I should've known –" McCoy says, and Pike waves him off.

"I thought I was good, doc," he states roughly. Really, he had thought so, but maybe he's just been lucky, due to a lack of sex life until six months ago and only few bottoming scenes with McCoy so far. They know that restraining him is a no-go, but this was unforeseeable, possibly born from lying immobile on his back and being forced to swallow. "Just an unlucky combination. So stop your self-recrimination trip."

"You want to talk about it?" McCoy asks, his look sympathetic.

"Not now, thanks." Pike takes another gulp, thinking _if you give me any pity shit now, I'm going to kill you._

There's a brief silence before McCoy says, "May I ask you a question?"

Pike laughs quietly. There's the professional therapist showing up, but at least no discernible pity. "Ask ahead. No promises for an answer, though."

"As I'm informed about your medical history, having been your doctor, albeit briefly - you've quite a history of injuries, some of which came from torture. What's so different this time that it seems to have such a lasting effect on you?"

"You mean, aside from the memory of spilling out the grid codes, the endless rehab and the changes in my brain chemistry?" Pike laughs again, mirthlessly. "I always had a command to go back to. But not this time. Incidentally, it was also the only ship I really fought for." He turns and leans with his back against the tree, taking another gulp, looking squarely into McCoy's eyes.

"Before Jim, I was the only man making captain in just four years. I've been on many missions, the longest five years, the shortest six months. I built a reputation over the years, for being able to make even complicated command teams work; for helping crews through disasters; for substituting for captains that lost their minds over this or that. I became the decorated stand-by man for crises, and even after twenty-five years in the captain's seat I didn't want to step down. They tried to sell me the recruitment job because I was a good figure-head, and I used that as leverage to fight for the command of the Enterprise. She should be my reward, the culmination of my career. I'd overseen most of her construction, hand-picked the fucking best crew in the fleet. I waited _four years_ to get her, my beautiful queen, and then I'm captain for one fucking day before Nero's taking it all away." He feels like hitting something.

"I understand," McCoy says quietly, gaze intense. "Sometimes, you must hate Jim for having her."

Pike shakes his head. "No. Not hate. Sometimes it just hits me how unfair it was, and it's depressing as hell when I really think about. But I'm so damn proud of Jim - if anyone ever tried to take her away from him, I'd fight for his command. The Enterprise has become the shining lady I wanted her to be, but it's obviously been destiny that it shouldn't be me in the center seat."

McCoy nods. "So – any current goal now?"

Pike shrugs. "I don't have one right now. Nothing besides living every day in a respectable manner." He clamps the bottle hard. "Funny thing is, when you get your first command, you get a big lecture in which they drive home the fact that your time in command is _limited_. It's the nature of the beast. You might fuck up, get injured, become a psychological wreck, have a board on your back, get in the way of politics… for every captain there will be a last mission, and it could always be the next one. Seeing it like this, I made it longer than most. A man should be able to accept when his time is over, and mine is now."

McCoy frowns. "You brain chemistry might be a bit off the standard values, but that doesn't mean a thing unless the deviation manifests. You could still try to get a command –" McCoy stops as he sees the truth in Pike's face. "There have been side effects?"

"Yes." Pike stares down on the forest's soil. "Started about eight months ago. Phases of disorientation, nausea, migraine… doctors have no idea how to fix it." He waves his hand, dismissing the problem. "They didn't want to let me up again when I tested out fine, so no matter if I got rid of that problem again, they still wouldn't let me."

"You should've told me," McCoy says concerned. "I can have a look at the data and see what I can do about it."

"Sure – thanks." Pike suddenly feels drained and tired. The only thing he hates more than pity is self-pity, and he can't believed he's just wallowed in it like that. He needs to stop talking, or he'd really get morose. "I need a break. Give me five minutes." Without waiting for an answer, he turns away, walking into the woods. There's a fallen tree not far away, and he sits down on it with his back to the creek, burying his face in his hands, going through some of the breathing exercises he's been using for ages. This trip won't fail because of his _first fucking flashback_ since the end of therapy.

He hears steps moving away, then returning to him. "Too much, asking for five minutes?" he snipes at the approaching man.

"It's been twenty already," McCoy states as he puts his hands on Pike's shoulders, gently massaging the tense muscles.

"Don't treat me like a patient," Pike states gruffly, tempted to shake off the grip.

"If you were my patient, I'd haul you to the next medical scanner and take every damn neuroscan that's ever been invented. But this here -" McCoy digs knowing fingers into the most hurting spots - "is my special treatment for obstinate captains."

Pike's shoulders sag. "I'm sorry, doc."

"No problem." The fingers work circles over his shoulders, satiating a need of being touched Pike hasn't even know he had.

"So, how's Jim doing?" Pike asks after a while.

"Fine. They're on their way back." McCoy ends the massage with some last strokes, then pulls Pike back against his body, combing through his hair. "Love you, you obstinate ass. So don't walk around pretending all is fine when it isn't."

"For the most part, my life is fine, thank you, doctor," Pike gets back on his feet and walks right in front to McCoy. "And being here with you is a big part of fine." He draws him into a long, deep kiss, which leaves them both feeling sappier than they're comfortable with. Time to gain some solid emotional ground. He moves away, picking up the anal beads and cleaning them in the creek for a moment. "Let's get back to the fire – which probably has died by now."

"Just gives you a better excuse for playing with fire," McCoy says with a shrug and follows his lead back to their little camp. True to his assumption, Pike doesn't mind spending some time nourishing the flame again. Then Kirk is back, dusty and tired and a little sun-burned. McCoy pulls him into a bear hug, while Pike nods to Yushi. "How did he fare?" he asks.

"Considering that he's only climbed in halls so far, he's a natural," Yushi says with a broad grin, and Pike feels again that rather fatherly pride when it comes to Kirk and his achievements. "I also made sure that he was properly secured, as ordered, but I have little doubt he's a free soloing candidate."

"Which means -?" McCoy asks.

"Going without security measures," Yushi replies. "Something for adrenaline junkies."

"Not as long as we can help it." McCoy glares.

"Come on, Bones, it's just no real challenge to climb with ropes and hooks," Kirk states with a glitter in his eyes. Before McCoy can get worked up over the obvious provocation, Pike says, "I totally agree with the doc – as long as you're with us, you won't pull that shit."

"Damn. You see, Yushi, just as I said – I'm all under their thumbs," Kirk states with a look of long suffering.

"I totally believe that." The climber grins. "So, another climbing session while you're here?"

Kirk looks at McCoy.

"Your decision, Jim," McCoy says.

"Let's talk about it later," Kirk says determined. "Thanks for the great offer, Yushi. I loved climbing with you." He moves forward to hug his instructor. "I'll give you a call tomorrow, okay?"

"Fine by me," Yushi replies, patting his shoulder. "So if we don't meet again, have a great vacation. And don't hesitate to call me again when you're back on Earth next time. Gentlemen." He tilts his head and waves good-bye, then walks away towards the parking lot.

"Didn't you like the climb?" McCoy asks.

Kirk smiles broadly. "Oh I did. It was marvelous. A great route. Fabulous view. It was tough too - I was really exhausted in the end, which was cool. Would've hated a too easy route. And Yushi's absolutely great, a wonderful teacher. But see -" he slings his free arm around Pike -"we've got so little time, I don't want to spend it solely with others when I've been waiting for so long to spend it with the two of you."

"Alright." McCoy clears his throat. "As far as I see, we've got two options now – either stay here a little longer or go back to the cabin. Considering that Jim will run out of adrenaline in maybe an hour, I'm all for the cabin."

Kirk nods. "I agree, the cabin and a shower and some after-mission-sex would be fine."

"After-mission-sex?" Pike asks amused.

"Jim lies back and lets others do the work," McCoy replies grumpily, but can't hide a grin.

Kirk draws them both a little closer. "Good to know some people who'll love to take care of me like that." Then he withdraws from the embrace. "Come on, let's put out the fire."

So they soon end in the cabin, clean and the smell of shower gel in the air, with Pike sandwiched between his two lovers, facing and fucking Kirk with McCoy deeply buried inside of him from behind, thinking _this is possibly the best climbing trip without climbing ever_.

*

When Pike wakes up next in what must be the very early morning hours, he's all entangled between them, arms and legs closely hooked together. It's a wonderful feeling, but he's forced out of bed by his bladder, so he slowly rearranges the limbs that get in the way of leaving before he slips out of bed. The floor is cool under his feet as he pads through the living room to the bathroom. When he's on his way back, he stops at the window of the living room, looking outside into the just awakening forest. There are birds in the air, incredibly loud now that the first rays of the rising sun tint the sky a light grey, and something moves in the still dark woods, hiding behind the trees as if having seen the watcher behind the glass.

He feels incredibly relaxed and satiated, happy in a way that had escaped him for months, maybe years. The recordings had been a wonderful way of connecting, but there's always been some nagging thought in his mind, whether it would feel like a real relationship once they were together again – and the last day and night had left no doubt about it. His world feels round with them, complete.

He turns his head to a sound behind him, and Kirk passes through the room with a nod, hitting the bathroom too. He turns his head back to the window, and isn't surprised when Kirk soon shows up in the distorted mirror, his face an eclectic mix with the trees behind.

"Overthinking again, Admiral?" Kirk says half-jokingly, embracing him from behind, one hot, lean body.

"Not at all," Pike replies softly, covering the hands on his chest with his own. "Just thinking how good life currently is."

"Glad to hear that," Kirk says, the inquiring gaze in the window changing into a smiling one. It briefly makes Pike wonder if and what McCoy may have told Kirk about the flashback, but the thought becomes unimportant as they remain in the embrace, watching the wildlife in silence while their bodies slowly awaken. He can feel Kirk's dick nudging against his ass, growing harder as he moves a little. He's never gotten fucked by Kirk before, never had felt the need to let him and hasn't been asked for it either. But right now, he wants it with every fiber of his body.

A feeling that's obviously shared by Kirk. "Put your hands on the window frame," he whispers in Pike's ears, and Pike doesn't think twice before his fingers clamp around the wood, left and right on the level of his head. He automatically bends forward, moving his legs further apart. He might have thought he was all wrung dry after their hot night, but feeling Kirk's fingers and dick on his ass makes his own erection jut out. His breathing going harsher, he leans into the exploring touch, the first fingers that dig into him. He's fine and so ready, and he presses back against Kirk in an inviting movement.

The fingers are withdrawn, substituted by the real thing. Kirk slowly nudges inside, inch by inch, until he's buried to the hilt. Then he stops and reaches around, fondling Pike's genitals.

"Look at the window," Kirk whispers. "Look at you."

Pike looks up from where his unfocused gaze had dropped to the wall below it, and takes in the display. Himself, all spread and needy and offering, his dick in Kirk's fist. Above his head, a part of Kirk's face mirroring, eyes fierce and brilliant, life forms of their own.

"You're so hot," Kirk rasps, gliding his hand upwards from the dick, stroking through the line of fur. "A great body. A great mind. Sometimes I don't know if I'd rather talk to you or have sex with you, because both things turn me on to no end." Pike swallows hard, his eyes still on the window. Kirk moves a little, pushing from behind. "I love seeing you all turned on, turned on so hard that you stop thinking and analyzing and judging yourself." Kirk puts his hands on Pike's hips, grabbing them tightly before moving once more, one, two pushes before he stills again.

"And I love being one of the people who can turn you on like this. I feel privileged and honored." Pike squeezes his eyes shut, thinking he'd never heard a stranger romantic declaration that also happens to be so hot that it's a miracle he doesn't come right away. His groin is on fire, his balls tight and his dick hard and leaking.

"And now, being allowed to fuck you... I feel like coming on the spot. That's why I've got to move so slowly, because if I don't, this is going to be the quickest quickie since I was fifteen."

Pike huffs a small laugh, his arousal so overwhelming that he doesn't find words to voice his complete agreement on this situation's analysis.

Kirk shifts his hands, spreading them over his ass cheeks, clamping the flesh. "I want to keep doing this forever, Want to keep this image in my mind, how you want me." He presses the cheeks together to increase the friction and moves again, pulling out and pressing in.

"Damn, Jim." Pike finds his voice again, rough and desperate, "I love to hear you talking like this, but if you don't start fucking me now, I'm probably going to have a stroke because there's not an ounce of blood left to pump outside of my dick."

Now it's Kirk laughing, and then he's finally moving, fucking Pike as he desired, long, hard strokes. Pike's fingers clamp around the frame, blindly searching for a better hold. He opens his eyes again, watching Kirk's face, watching his own, the bare need, the way their features tense as orgasms draw close. The hand searching for his dick seems unreal in the glass until it closes around his erection; then it's almost too much to bear. He bucks into it with a groan, his hips moving back and forth, riding Kirk's dick, fucking Kirk's fist, and they tumble towards their release like that in a growing chaos, far beyond coordinated moves. When Pike comes, all of himself is reduced to his pulsing, bursting dick, and he keeps jerking into the hand until his knees start shaking. Kirk's grip slackens, and fingers are wiped on his upper legs, making a mess. Pike doesn't care.

Kirk sags against his back, his hands stroking Pike's body, the slowly deflating erection still buried in his ass.

"I've got to move," Pike murmurs.

"Okay." Kirk carefully pulls out and offers him a hand, though that's not much for stabilization. "Let's sit down."

Actually Pike would prefer a shower, but then decides that a brief break would be just as welcome. He follows Kirk's lead to the couch, where Kirk has the inspiration to pull one of the discarded towels of last night over the seat before they sag onto it with a joined sigh.

Pike leans into Kirk's embrace, resting his head on Kirk's shoulder. "Damn, I'm done."

Kirk strokes his arm. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For allowing me to do this at last."

Pike has a hard time finding the right words, tired as he suddenly is. "I never intended you to feel left out. It just somehow didn't fit before," he finally says lamely.

"I know. I didn't mind it enough to press the point. But now that it's happened, I'm glad about it."

"I'm sorry, Jim." Pike drifts into sleep and just wishes it would happen faster. This has the potential to develop into the feared relationship discussion that could destroy their arrangement, and he's too much in post-orgasmic haze to work through this.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry."

"Sorry that I love the doc," Pike mutters.

Kirk makes a disapproving snort. "Do you know the contaminated starship question?"

"Huh?"

"Imagine Bones and I being stuck in a contaminated ship, and you are there, and you know you can rescue only one of us – who would you choose?"

"What an awful question," Pike murmurs.

"Please, Chris. Who would you choose?"

Pike gives up and cracks open his eyes, giving the scenario some serious thoughts. "I can't choose," he finally says. "I just can't. You belong together. I wouldn't be able to choose between you."

Kirk laughs quietly. "Just as I expected. You'd rather try and save us both, dying with us in the process. But you wouldn't be able to choose. And see, that's why I'm not bothered at all about what you and Bones have together, because we may have a different kind of relationship, but it's just as strong." He draws Pike into a surprisingly tender kiss. "I love you, Chris. Here, I said it. You may not feel like using the word, I don't mind. Took me long enough to say it to Bones, because I haven't been very lucky with love in my life. And I know you haven't been lucky either, most of the time. But I love you, and I love Bones, and we all have something wonderful together, even if the nuances differ."

"Yes." Pike's throat is tight, and he bites down the embarrassing flood of emotions that threaten to throw him out of his cherished control, the base he needs. "And I can say it." Christopher Pike is not afraid of speaking the truth. "I love you too, Jim. It is different, and there are things in the mix I'll never get out, like feeling more fatherly towards you, more like a mentor even when I learn so much from you these days. It's part of our history. And it's good because without me finding you, you wouldn't be here now."

"Yeah. Without your damn little speech, I'd probably be in a prison somewhere, twiddling my thumbs."

"Don't say that."

"But you know I would," Kirk says simply. "You turned my life around, because you saw something in me that nobody else did. And then I met Bones, who did the same. Between the two of you, I got off my ass to give the best I could."

"Which is a lot."

"Yes. But it's the two of you who make me want to become better still." Kirk laces his hand into Pike's hair. "A better captain. A better friend. A better lover."

"Can't imagine there's much room for improvement," Pike says, closing his eyes again now that he knows they're fine.

"That coming from the man who dared me to do better," Kirk murmurs, sounding as sleepy as Pike feels.

"You needed that dare back then. You don't need it now."

Kirk shakes his head, or at least he tries but he's all but sunken into the horizontal, his head on the armrest of the couch. Pike has moved with him, and they end sleeping on the spot, utterly unable to find the energy for going back to bed.

At some time Pike feels something thrown over him, but it's the smell of the coffee much later that wakes him up. Outside, it's bright daylight, and he rubs his eyes, wondering what time it is. Over their bodies, there's a large blanket which kept them comfortably warm.

"Here, have a coffee."

Pike turns his head towards a dressed McCoy, who's standing next to them with two cups in his hands.

"Great idea," Kirk says with a yawn, and they scramble into a seated position on the couch before they take the steaming cups. McCoy crouches down opposite to them in one of the armchairs, knees drawn to his chest, naked feet on the seat – one beautiful picture with the bed hair and the gruff.

Pike looks at McCoy, searching his face for any signs of discomfort. He probably won't stop having these little moments of doubt for a long time, but there's nothing to be seen but McCoy's bright eyes resting on him, a smile quirking his lips.

Pike smiles back, his mind suddenly returning to the old Spock's words. Eleven years of lonely command in the Vulcan's timeline - an incredible relationship in this one. Maybe the universe plays a game with them too, endless possibilities pitched against each other to reach equilibrium. But no matter whose game it is – he's determined to stay in it.


End file.
